On curved flexible necks we look back
To find Mr. Sweeny near a Mrs.Porter
Of classical fame ,bather in the woods
Now with foot in soda water fountain.
We imagine grumble of wicked chariot.
It will soon pass us by and a Mrs.Porter.
It will soon pass us by and Mr. Sweeny.
Yonder before us lie deserts of eternity.
(Referring to Sweeny in T.S.Eliot’s poem The Waste Land and recalling Andrew Marvel’s poem “To his coy mistress)